Eight months ago, when house arrest began,
I tried to learn to only touch my face
at home alone and clean. My hygiene plan
involved increasing time inside my place,
enduring masking when around a man
or woman I don’t know, and no embrace
beyond my little bubble. That was then.
I’ve lately lapsed, and touch my face again.

(Ottava Rima)

This entry was posted in Coronaverse, Health, Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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